


Old Enemies

by TinyInsignificantHumans



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, I'll add more tags when I can think of more, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 10:27:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14306727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyInsignificantHumans/pseuds/TinyInsignificantHumans
Summary: When Hawke saves Fenris from a group of rebel mages using her own magic, he gives her grudging thanks and respect. As he slowly begins to accept that maybe not every mage is bad, he is reminded of the ones in his past that caused him nothing but pain as slavers take Hawke from her home in the hopes to sell her to Tevinter. There's only one mage with enough gold to consider buying her, and Fenris must confront his old demons in order to save the woman he is growing to love.





	Old Enemies

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story years ago and its about time I get back into and finish it.

 

He was outnumbered, and he only realised that fact too late, when a mage send a wave of fire at him. The blast hit him in the chest and sent him flying back to crash into the wall behind him. His armour had mostly protected him, but the fire had burnt his neck and jaw, and Fenris touched a hand to his skin as he pushed up onto his knees. The mages surrounded him now, they knew that he was weakened, and they intended to take full advantage of that. The lyrium beneath his skin flared in reaction to the mana that lingered in the air. The male mage of the group raised his staff and Fenris grasped the hilt of his great-sword in a vain hope that he could lift it to fight them off. He wouldn't be defeated by a bunch of Free Marches' mages when he had defeated Tevinter mages.

 

The mage's staff glowed with the threat of his next spell, but it never came. The mage in question was distracted by explosion behind them, and when they turned their backs to Fenris, the elf slumped a little, his breathing heavy. He was exhausted, but he couldn't relax yet. He needed to get home, Kirkwall's streets weren't safe at night, even with Hawke wandering about trying to make things safer. Fenris looked up as the mages engaged in a different battle, but he couldn't see who it was; he could just sense the magical energy that drenched the air. It was suffocating and his markings died down to a flicker whenever a wave of mana would sweep over him.

 

It wasn't a long fight. The male mage fell unconscious rather quickly and his two female followers fled instantly after that. Fenris watched as the brunette woman brushed hair back from her face as she put her staff back on her back. He locked eyes with her then, and suddenly he felt more exhausted than he had a moment ago, while at the same time a jolt shot through him, as if he'd been smacked with electricity. He dropped to the ground, the left side of his jaw smacking the concrete hard enough to smash his teeth together, and he let his eyes drift closed.

 

“Fenris!” Hawke's voice called to him, but it was faint, and after a short moment he was aware of hands on his cheek and running over the burn on his neck. He winced, but was unable to tell her to stop. He had no energy to open his eyes or speak and so he just turned his head away from her hands and groaned. “Fenris, stop. Just lie still for a minute.” Hawke's voice, a little clearer now, scolded him. He tried to respond, to demand that she leave him as he didn't want the help of a mage, but he failed and the soothing warmth spreading over his neck and face was so relaxing.

 

He was drifting slowly, and her quiet words of reassurance got more and more distant as he let himself give in to the sweet painless abyss he was slipping into. There was still warmth from her hands and a soothing tone that he was only just able to pick up on but he didn't have the energy to fight anymore, and so he gave in. Some deeper part of him trusted Hawke, and he knew that with her watching over him that he would be safe.

 

.:.:.:.

 

When Fenris next opened his eyes, he couldn't make out where he was. His first thought was that Hawke had managed to get him into the clinic in Darktown, but the smell wasn't as fowl as he was used to whenever he had to go into that slum. He wasn't in his own home, as much as he wished he was. He sat up with a soft groan and glanced around the room. He was sitting on a double bed, his armour removed and lying on the chair by the bed, and the room around him was expensively decorated and was a clear indication that wherever he was it was in Hightown. He guessed that made sense, he was attacked in Hightown, and just as he was remembering his injuries the door went crashing open to a loud bark as Hawke's mabari, Lyall, bounded in and charged him.

 

The hound would have sent him crashing to the floor if it wasn't for the loud whistle that stopped it in its tracks, his teeth bared as Fenris moved from the bed and took a step away from the mabari – he was much too close for comfort. Hawke had appeared in the doorway, dressed not in her usual armour, but instead in a fitted red robe that dipped enough to give Fenris a teasing thought of wanting to explore more of her curves. She smiled warmly at him and moved closer, calling Lyall back to her side.

 

“Sorry about him. He's a bit jumpy with new people in the house. You were also covered in blood when we brought you back here.” Hawke said, pouring him a glass of water and handing it out to him. He glared at her, and refused to move to take the water, as much as he was longing for the cool liquid to coat his tongue. He refused to let this mage help him any more than she had. Hawke sighed and put the glass down, and moved to him.

 

His lyrium flared in defence and he took a step back, Lyall growled loudly and Fenris tensed, ready for a fight. Carver stopped in the doorway, hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to defend his older sister even if it did mean cutting down a man he considered a friend. Hawke hesitated but moved closer to Fenris regardless, quietly telling Lyall that it was okay and to back off to Carver. Fenris wasn't surprised that the mage didn't need to turn around to know that her brother was there, he was protective of his sister, more so with all the Templars out for her.

 

“Don't touch me mage!” Fenris growled it, his lyrium burning beneath his skin. He wanted to tear her apart, and he let out a breath he didn't realise that he was holding when she stopped. Hawke turned to look over her shoulder at her brother and their mabari.

 

“Carver, why don't you take Lyall and wait outside for me? I think I should speak to Fenris alone.” She said it calmly, but Carver hesitated before leaving. Hawke must have given him her 'I've-made-up-my-mind' look, because he did eventually leave. It was a look that they all knew, and there was no fighting her decision when she gave you that look. The only thing you could do was to go along with whatever crazy plan she had and hope you all survived to see the end of it. Hawke then turned back to face him, and with a slight pause, she moved to him, her hand reaching out to brush against his jaw.

 

The lyrium in his skin exploded in a blue light at her touch and sent tingles down his neck and spine. Her touch was addictive and it stunned him into taking another step back. Nobody had touched him and caused such a reaction before and he wanted nothing more than to have her do it again, but he couldn't give into her. She was a mage and regardless of her beauty or bravery that wouldn't change. Fenris smacked her hand away, the glow of his skin fading fast without her skin on his. “Don't touch me, mage. I don't need your help Hawke!” He growled, and noticed the confusion in her eyes.

 

“Fenris...” She started, sighing as she took her hand back. “You do need my help. You would have been killed out there last night. Those mages would have killed you, do you understand that? You don't need to be afraid of me.”

 

“I am not afraid of you!” Fenris snapped. He wanted to leave, he wanted to push past her, grab his armour and get the hell out of her house, but he didn't trust himself to touch her again, especially as her robe was so low cut and tempting with her porcelain skin. His outburst caused his lyrium to burn again and he felt the anger rising in his chest. It didn't seem to phase Hawke in the slightest though, and she just sighed and moved closer, trapping him against the wall even more.

 

“Oh shut up. You're hurt, Fenris, and I know healing magic. Just let me help you to heal and you'll be free to have your tantrums.” Hawke muttered, reaching up and brushing her fingers against his skin. Her touch was warm and gentle and he could feel the healing magic slip into him, taking away the bite of pain that sparked up when she touched the burns on his skin. He grabbed her wrist tightly and she hesitated, looking up at him and for a brief second Fenris could see the fear in her face. He was unpredictable and she had gotten dangerously close – she noticed that then, and the risk was clear, but she forced her fear down, and looked up at him defiantly. He didn't know what it was about the look that she gave him, but something in it was enough to short circuit his brain.

 

Fenris didn't know what came over him, but he pulled Hawke closer and kissed her. She froze for a moment, but it didn't take her long to return his kiss. His hand was still around her wrist, her hand on the wall behind him to steady herself after he pulled her closer and he could feel the electricity her magic caused as it sparked into life from his lyrium. They triggered each other and Fenris slipped his tongue into Hawke's mouth as he wrapped an arm around her slender waist.

 

She let him past her lips, allowing her own tongue to greet his as she was pushed against him tighter and moaning quietly as she felt the hard muscles in his arm tense against her. She pushed up on her toes to deepen the kiss, pushing her body against his and moving her hand to run through his white hair. He growled lowly as she bit his bottom lip playfully and she smiled against his lips as he pushed her back. The backs of her knees hit the bed and she fell onto it, pulling the elf down on top of her. Her robe slid up her thighs a little and Fenris' mouth found her neck. Hawke tilted her head back, moaning quietly as his soft lips brushed over her warm skin, feeling the heat build up inside her. The effect of his lyrium markings was enough in itself to make her gasp his name, so when his hand grasped her bare thigh and the shock spread though her to her core, she had no choice.

 

Fenris felt his need for her growing, an aching, building need that shook him to his core. He heard his name whispered as his mouth moved to the curve of her breasts and realisation hit him hard. He stopped instantly, and moved from her, breathing heavily and aching with the urge to give in and take her where she lay. He couldn't though, she was a mage. How could he have been so reckless? Silently scolding himself, Fenris grabbed his armour and left the room as Hawke was sitting up and trying to catch her breath. She watched him go from the balcony outside her room, Lyall sitting at her feet protectively and Carver watching from the study. Hawke didn't try to stop Fenris, she was too focused on hiding the deep hurt that she felt from his departure. She longed for him, had done so for so long, and she had finally felt him warm to her – he had opened up and let her in, only to shove her out in the cold and dark to sit alone, hurt and confused.

 

.:.:.:.

 

Hawke was pulled from her sleep by a crash that had her heart thrashing in her chest. She threw herself out of the bed when the injured whimper from Lyall seeped into her room, and she bolted to the door, in nothing by her robe and forgot to grab her staff on the way to see what was going on. The chaos in her hallway made her freeze, it was so hard for her brain to really take in what was happening. There was a dozen or so men and women in her home, all armed and terrifyingly organised. Lyall lay by the fire, unconscious and bleeding, and Carver was being held down by two men, a blade to his spine. Hawke's eyes met her brothers and she took a step closer to the stairs, determined to save her before she saw him shaking his head.

 

“Run! They're looking for you!” Carver shouted, finding a new urgency in his fight to break free. Hawke saw the others spot her and heard one bark an order to grab her. He had a Tevinter accent and she heard one shout out a name that made her panic. Danarius. Fenris' old master. He had sent men for her. Hawke turned on her heel and ran back into her room, slamming the door shut, putting a magical barrier up. It wouldn't stop them from getting in, but it would slow them down. She knew she was going to be taken, she was outnumbered and couldn't get out. She needed to let her friends know what had happened though.

 

She grabbed her staff and ran to the balcony, the drop would only hurt her and she knew that she couldn't just run anyway. What would happen to Carver, and mother if she just ran away? Her door crashed open and Hawke took that moment to launch a fireball into the night sky – acting as a flare -and hoped that any of her friends would see it and come. She felt the magic hit her spine and she dropped heavily to her knees. Tears stung at her eyes and she just prayed that these people wouldn't hurt her brother.

 


End file.
